


take what we're given

by clumsygyrl (thegirlthatisclumsy)



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: D/s, M/M, PWP, Restraints, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-13
Updated: 2007-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlthatisclumsy/pseuds/clumsygyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan was breathing hard, excited and needy. Big hands on his body had stripped off his pants and shorts, bare from the waist down where anyone could come in and see.</p><p>But they wouldn’t. Ryan knew he didn’t need to worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take what we're given

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: all true. yup. all of it. except where it’s not. being everything with vowels and consonants.  
> Author’s notes: thanks to i_amthecosmos for the read through and the encouragement. for my callsigns who gave me the idea while i was drunk on her living room floor while we watched Big Bird in Japan. also the title is from a song from Newsies.  
> Warnings: uh. belt restraint and riding. yup

Ryan was breathing hard, excited and needy. Big hands on his body had stripped off his pants and shorts, bare from the waist down where anyone could come in and see.

But they wouldn’t. Ryan knew he didn’t need to worry. 

Ray’s eyes glittered darkly, but under the want was care. Ryan felt a knot in his chest, metaphysical or metaphorical heart seizing a little at that look. The same look he’d been getting for the past year. Ray wouldn’t say it, but Ryan knew what it meant.

Ray wouldn’t keep him with the words and that was another part of Ray taking care of him. 

Ryan had sought Ray out on a lark. He’d read some fan comment about some quote from some article. He thought it’d be funny. Call him out. Brendon had thought it was hilarious. In all honesty, Ryan did a lot of things because it would impress Brendon (on superficial levels and not anything of consequence though) and make him laugh.

So, Ryan called. 

He wasn’t prepared for the soft voice and the quiet little laugh and the genuineness of Ray’s almost stuttered praise for the album and the lyrics. Ryan’s words put to music he helped create. Ryan was (embarrassed, honored, guilty) flattered that Ray had actually meant what he said.

“So, that was the truth, huh?” Was all Ryan had left.

“Only way I know how to talk,” Ray said with a laugh.

It’d started with emails, texts, and drinks (Ray had beers and Ryan nursed sodas. And the occasional sip of champagne. He tried to try sake, but they confiscated his fake id. After that it was sodas and juices, not that Ryan or Ray minded much.) and turned into kissing and petting and then sex. 

Ryan knew, logically, that they’d connected on a musical level. On a person to person level. Possibly had even become friends.

But mostly Ryan knew that Ray wanted to take care of him. To give him things that he wasn’t ready to ask for yet.

It always started out the same. Ryan would visit. They’d sit and chat. Ryan would look over and Ray would put his drink down and then…

Ray slid his fingers under Ryan’s shirt, question in his eyes. The exchanges were usually always silent, Ray pressing forward then retreating, unwilling and not wanting to scare Ryan off. 

Ryan shook his head held his wrists out. Ray frowned and shook his head at that, but then relented when Ryan just kept his wrists there. Ray pulled his own belt free from his pants. 

Ryan swallowed hard, hearing the soft whisk of leather against denim. He felt his wrists being bound together, tightly but not painfully so. Ray wouldn’t and couldn’t do that to him. That made the knot ease a bit in his chest. Ray looped it through the buckle a few times. He worked with the same methodical concentration he did for practicing or playing. Ryan wished he could say out loud that he loved feeling Ray’s fingers, play roughened but gentle, on him and even moreso when they were in him. 

But that would mean breaking the quiet and in these instances, Ryan needed the quiet more than his need to give Ray the reassurance.

He never said he wasn’t selfish.

Ray tipped his head forward and Ryan was always amazed at the feeling of having Ray bend to him. Ryan slipped his arms around Ray’s head, the warm leather resting against the back of his neck. If Ryan reached up, his fingers could play with the cottonwool texture of Ray’s hair, but that’s not what Ryan wanted. Not what he needed from Ray.

Ryan knew that this and a hundred other little instances made him selfish. Possibly even more childish and immature for always wanting and taking and expecting more, but he couldn’t help it. 

And Ray just gave it to him. That and the other thousand things Ryan couldn’t put to voice.

Clothes came off easily. Ryan more passive and letting Ray do all the work. It wasn’t a hindrance. At least, Ray never complained that it was. He just kissed Ryan, working his tongue between soft chapped lips and over the sharp edge of teeth. 

This is what Ryan could give Ray. Kiss for kiss, hungry and soft, demanding but pliant. He tried to tell Ray that it was good. That he maybe loved Ray for being able to do this for him. To him.

Ray settled, pants halfway off, zipper scraping the back of Ryan’s thighs. Ray took his time undressing Ryan, leaving the thin cotton tshirt, already wrinkled and stretched from earlier fumbling. Ryan felt the warm metal of a button against the muscle of his leg. He’d have bruises tomorrow, but he wanted them. Ray lifted him into position and Ryan exhaled, taking it.

Ray’s hands cupped and held Ryan’s hips, the bone pressing into the soft pads of his fingers. Ryan felt the slickcool press of Ray’s cock, sheathed in the thinnest layer of latex and barely enough lube. Ryan gritted his teeth and Ray petted his thighs. There might have been a quiet word, but Ryan couldn’t hear past the rushing and roaring of blood in his ears. 

It hurt. God, did it hurt, but it did every time. Ray was bigger than Ryan was used to, maybe bigger than Ryan would ever get used to, but again it was something he needed. 

The almost dry stretch centered him. Ray looked up, sweat making his hair darker. Ryan leaned forward and kissed him, teeth scraping against his lower lip. His body folded inward, around and against Ray. Ray gripped his hips and let Ryan sink further, pushing up with his own hips. 

Ryan bit the inside of his cheek and took it, riding out the sensation. He groaned wetly against Ray’s neck. “More,” pressing the one word against his skin.

Ray nodded, hands and hips moving in a hard unrelenting rhythm of pull and push. Ryan’s fingers clenched around each other, bone rubbing against bone as Ray pushed deeper, stretching him and filling him. He wanted to tell Ray how good it felt, how good Ray was, but the words stuck. The words just stayed.

Ray was muttering, soft words that Ryan couldn’t make out. Peppered against his skin as they moved together. Ryan started his own rocking, pushing down with each of Ray’s ups. He rode him, rubbing his chest against Ray’s, rucking their two shirts up whimpering when it caught against his nipple. Too much, too fast, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t.

Ray’s fingers pressed and shifted. One hand gripped his hip, the other slipped down, pressing behind Ryan to where their bodies joined. 

Ryan cried out, coming with just the friction of Ray’s stomach against his cock, streaking his shirt with come. His body jerked, high and tight against it, wanting to wring it out. Ray kept moving his rhythm gone as he just tried to get deeper, tried to get closer.

Ryan indulged for a moment, reveling in the warmth of the afterglow before he started to help. Riding again, twisting and squeezing down. 

Ray’s head tipped back, digging against the soft cushions of the couch as he came. Ryan’s name and a promise in his shout.

They lay there, touching but not speaking for long moments. Sticky and spent, but unwilling to acknowledge exactly what they’d done. What Ryan had asked for without really asking and what Ray had given. Kept giving.

Slowly Ryan lifted himself up, wrists slipping over Ray’s head. Ray looked at Ryan as he unlooped it, rubbing calloused fingertips over the red skin afterwards. Ryan smiled a little when Ray kissed the inside of each one.

“Thanks.”

Ray cupped the back of Ryan’s head and just looked, smiling a little and kissing the corner of his mouth. 

Ryan took what Ray gave him. Ryan hoped one day he’d have the courage to ask Ray what he wanted.

He hoped.

 

fin


End file.
